


The Forgiveness Game

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/M, Femdom, Pregnant Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As we all know, there's only one way Sideswipe can really make up with his pregnant and pissed-off sparkmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A psuedo-sequel to 'The Sire Knows Best', with Strongarm being pregnant with Sideswipe's sparkling and still being very mad at him for ditching her in favour of Windblade. Written very specifically for a friend and never intended to see the light of day, before I figured that Strongswipe deserves all the smut it can get on full display. 
> 
> In case anyone doesn't know and ends up being confused, I headcanon pregnant femmes carrying sparklings in their chestplates. One, it's a nice little reason for them having breasts than just for aesthetics, and two it makes the most sense to me since new sparks originate from the spark of their carrier, which is obviously in her chest (there's a bit more to it than that, but I won't bore you with weird details).

Like a human dying of thirst on the edge of a salt lake, all Sideswipe could do was lick his lips desperately at the sea of naked grey protoform straddling him; sleek curves dappled with coolant beads, quivering in the heat of their quarters and reflecting his stricken faceplate. His hands twitched, digits aching to feel her in his restless lust. 

"You're moaning a lot, Sides," Strongarm observed from her perch on his spike. "From that, I'll assume I'm doing well." Another roll of her hips against his, a subtle squeeze of her valve and quirk of her eyeridges, and he was falling in love all over again. 

"You're... amazing, Strongarm… have I ever told you that?" Even as he chuckled lazily, he was melting into the berth as she grinded him into it. He couldn't help himself. It was a reflex, a selfish need to know she was there, his hand curving up ever so slightly to stroke along her thigh- and then instantly being slapped away before his digits could so much as brush her protoform.

"Ah-ah," Strongarm tutted, as if he was a disobedient sparkling (convenient, considering what was brewing in her spark chamber). "I told you, no touching."

It was only one of many in a queue of punishments for getting himself infatuated with Primus' most insufferable messiah, aka Windblade. In retrospect, he deserved it, and they both knew it well.

"It's actually shame you can't use your servos, Sides..." Strongarm said with mock sympathy, pouting down at him as her own servos slowly stroked up her body. The tiny moans littering her vents made him bite his lip hard, grinding the metal against his denta. "I don't know if you know this, but pregnancy makes chestplates..." As soon as her hands reached the naked mounds spilling out of her chest, swollen with energon and their sparkling, a gasp jolted from her vocaliser and her hips bucked forward, immersing herself even more on his spike. "Very... sensitive." Optics closed, lips bitten, whimpers followed her words in a galloping frenzy as her digits rubbed generously over her skin, circling the glowing tips.

"Oh, you cruel, cruel femme..." Sideswipe watched her in a trance of desire; moaning under the weight of his own growing impatience, spike throbbing thickly, wrapped in the damp blanketing folds of her valve, it was becoming increasingly hard not to bowl her over and frag her into the ground.  
She was having the time of her life on top of him, and he wouldn’t even get to overload.

"I hope we have a daughter,” Strongarm admitted, still playing with her chestplates just because she could and he couldn’t, riding him in a sinful rhythm. Her backstrut seemed to fail on her, sending her falling forwards and pressing her forehelm against Sideswipe’s. Her vents buffeted against his dry lips in small pants, daring him to try and kiss her. “I can tell her all about how Daddy fragged up," she whispered, lidding her optics even as what little light they showed glared into his own. 

“Oh, Primus, don’t call me that, please…” As if he didn’t have enough sire issues to deal with already, now he had to push down the surge of arousal that name on Strongarm’s tongue sent through his spike.

She was kind enough to at least oblige in that regard even as she rode him faster, making her chestplates bounce just close enough to his face so he could hear the dual sparkbeat inside them. Not only could he not feel his mate, he couldn’t even touch their own child.

Other than long whines of regret, he kept his aggravations silent even as Strongarm finally and violently overloaded, constricting his spike in a wet vice and blowing the air apart with shrieks of ecstasy (the whole scrapyard a mile away would have woken up from it). He still couldn’t tell if she got off on riding or tormenting him, or if his punishments were finally over.

“You’re getting there, Daddy,” she mumbled against his forehelm, teasingly gliding her lips along the metal in the closest thing to a kiss he’d be allowed for now. For just a few nanoklicks he could hear a gentle pulse in her chestplates, in front of the fainter frequency of her spark and much smaller, weaker than its mother. The reality of becoming a sire so soon crushed down again, flattening him in the sludge of the rushing future and tearing through any tendrils of arousal that were left behind.

Whether she noticed the wilt in his spike or not, Strongarm hadn’t offered to “deal” with him as she climbed off it, thighs sticky with lube and coolant and valve only snapping closed when she was almost out the door. 

With much bigger problems crawling in his processor, Sides safely figured that he still had a long way to go for winning her forgiveness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been meaning to do a proper ending for months now but hey, better late than never.

Everyone knew Strongarm was carrying by now, even without the thick static in her EM field and the new heaviness in her chestplates. And, from the lack of congratulations he received on being a sire, everyone knew how much slag Sideswipe was in. She still wouldn't look straight at him during the day, even if they were both tasked with sorting through scrap piles or combing through the Alchemor prisoner manifesto for the hundredth time. Her field would brush against his and he'd get a passing pulse from their newspark before both it and its mother were gone. It was just enough to put him at risk of becoming an addict.

The occasional interface wasn't enough for him. He needed to feel the love from his child and its mother, to earn Strongarm's laden spark back for good. 

Worshipping her was a good start, he thought.

"It's been a long time since you've gotten me on my back, Sides." Though her voice was clear, even her iron willpower couldn't cover up the sighing moans from her vents as he massaged under her chestplating. His main focus was on her abdomen though, licking along each grey segment of exposed protoform. He could almost taste the sparks on her nerve nodes, each new burst scrambling her systems ever so slightly. Her helm was dipped back into the berth when he raised his optics, but he was sure she could feel him smirking against her body.

"Well, then... I better make this time count, huh?"

Reluctantly his hands drew back from the warmth of her chestplates, swollen with energon and sparkling. They found new purchase on her hips, pulling his lips further down until he was tonguing the seams of her interface. Just prodding the cover told him how much lube she was leaking out behind it, and he mirrored her arousal with his codpiece aching.

Leagues above him, Strongarm gasped and arched back against him, waiting for the slick glide of his glossa going inside her. Sideswipe could find the cover's release in his recharge, they both knew that, but he was more than happy to delay until she got over her pride and asked him for it.

It only took a few more nanoklicks of slow lapping. "Get on with it then... Daddy." Strongarm hissed, gritting her denta and trying to force him to give in with a determined push into helm. Sideswipe didn't resist against it, but he kept his tongue lodged into a seam starting to soak through with lube.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" he lilted, with a very cheeky glance upwards at where she was staring down between the coolant-beaded mounds of her chestplates.  
"Why? Don't want a hard spike distracting you?" she asked, managing a smirk despite the wave of moans breaking her lips apart.

Sideswipe copied and amplified it, curling a hand under one of her damp thighs and pulling it over his shoulder, feeling the thick protoform tremble and stick slightly against his neck. "Babe, if it was any harder right now, my codpiece would break in half," he assured as he finally pulled her plating aside with skilled denta, making sure his vents skimmed over her exposed nodes as lubricant started to drip out. It'd been so long since he'd seen her valve up close, but he still remembered every outer silicon fold, every subtle bump that marked sensor clusters in her walls and the lush, glistening blue of her rim. He stopped himself from carelessly shoving his glossa in, intent on savouring her and making her remember why she gave her spark to a hopeless mech like him. His tongue reached out slowly towards her upper node, the most sensitive one outside her valve walls, swirling against the soft nub as cyan lube gushed out underneath him. 

Just as he'd planned, not even Strongarm could hold back a tide of stuttered moans and long whines filling the gaps, almost as snugly as his glossa filling the wet hollow of her port. His taste nodes were soaked in an electric musk, tingling and sweet, as his denta nipped along her folds and she clawed her digits down the crest of his helm. The desperate arch of her backstrut and the upward pull of her hips let him push deeper, licking along hidden clusters as her walls pulsed around his glossa. It was like kissing her passionately with her mouth filled with high grade- thick blue strands covered his chin and lips as he lavished her valve with the attention it deserved. 

Though only whispered, her curses and mumbled pleas for more of his mouth were what helped Sideswipe give her so many overloads in just one night. Each one had her screaming despite her emphasis on secrecy, and her valve in a vice around his tongue as it maneuvered into every crevice of it. He'd mark the end of one with a soft kiss on her swollen nub before licking up her juices. In the cacophonic blend of sweating coolant, cries and panting fan blades, Sideswipe lost track of how long he spent between Strongarm's legs. It must have been breems later when she pulled on his crest, forcing his neck up and his optics on her faceplate even as his glossa still held a thin string of lube and saliva between his lips and her folds. Underneath the bright sheen of coolant was an exhausted smile and a badly hidden blush. 

"Alright... alright, Sides," she gasped, heaving her pregnant chest with each breath. "You've... made your point..."  
Now resting his stained chin in the centre of her hips, he pouted against her protoform. "Can't handle just one more?" he asked, almost kissing the soaked metal skin as he gazed up with thinly veiled triumph. 

"Maybe tomorrow..." Strongarm said quietly, moving her hand from his helm to the side of his face. "After I give your spike a big thank you, that is," she promised with a lazy wink.

Pulling his neck back, Sideswipe grinned as he dragged himself back up to her face, licking his lips clean of most traces of her. "I love you..." He said it in a single breath against her neck cables, passing it over the side of her faceplate as he settled on top of her, finally allowed the privilege of being close again. The thud of his spike even faded, once he knew he'd done right by his sparkmate at last.

His hands returned to the glowing warmth of her chestplates, gliding over his growing child. Strongarm joined with her own digits, weaving them in with his.

"I know. I love you too," she whispered, kissing his talented lips and tasting the results of his effort for herself.


End file.
